Arrow Lake zaftig

she was gone, and with her the little cubs sired by her mountain cur. mahler had returned from a extended expedition into the furthermost reaches of diasporan territory to find aurëwen departed, her teeth having been bared against stigmata.
and so he had found himself rife with grief, with anger; mahler had considered pursuing her, to ask the motherdove why she had done it.
but the gargoyle had not, and now found himself facing into the fading light of dusk with a bitter sigh upon his lips.

He had been chasing one thing or another, all day. It started as an attempt to impress upon his siblings that he was fast, and strong, but with his fickle attention span and lack of follow through, the boy had wasted away most of the day without a positive result. As dusk fell he could be spied worrying at something in the underbrush.

Whatever it was soon escaped him — and with a huff the boy gave up, stalking across an expanse of scrub grass with an agitated gleam in his eye. That is, until he spotted Mahler. He didn't approach, but reached with his snout to sniff the air — a silent, where you been?

a silverchased boy approached, with so much of stigmata in him that it gave mahler pause. it was with takiyok's poise that the child regarded mahler; the shadowpriest closed the distance between them with a few strides, lowering his muzzle to take in the scent of the young one.
​he did not initially speak, for there were no things to say that came swiftly to mind. but a fond light entered his eyes, a wry smile to his lips. "you have gotten larger," he commented amusedly.